


Tomatoes and truths

by eversingingleaves



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: F/M, relationship failure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-24
Updated: 2012-10-24
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:38:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/545078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversingingleaves/pseuds/eversingingleaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>”I hate tomatoes,” came her quiet complaint, and he jumped, slicing his finger in the process. The knife dropped with a clatter to the cutting board and he yelped, bringing the hurt to his mouth.</p><p>Major Warnings as follows: Emotional issues, Pregnancy, Not A Happy Family, Dysfunctional Relationships, Minor Injury</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomatoes and truths

It began as an argument about tomatoes. Spirit slid the neatly sliced fruit onto the salad, arranging it neatly. The heat in the kitchen was astounding, waves of it rolling off the stovetop to encompass the rest of the tiny apartment- enough so that his very pregnant wife waddled into the room. Sweat rolled down Spirit’s forehead as he worked, sauteing and chopping.

”I hate tomatoes,” came her quiet complaint, and he jumped, slicing his finger in the process. The knife dropped with a clatter to the cutting board and he yelped, bringing the hurt to his mouth.

“Din’t seeya there,” he replied through a mouthful of digit. She was resplendent, as always, even with her ashy hair askew and her eyes blurry from sleep; resplendent and displeased, apparently. Spirit noted her frown and dropped the knife in the sink, wrapping his bloody appendage in a dish towel.

“God- No- SPIRIT!” she yelled, exasperated beyond his simple comprehension. He froze like a puppy caught in the midst of some unknown wrongdoing.

“What?” His query was met with a meaningful look at the dishtowel, which was quickly becoming soiled.

“I can’t  _believe_ you! You’re just- just so  _useless!_ ” He physically recoiled.

“I- I- I’m sorry?” he ventured, moving to take the tomatoes out of the salad. Her face went from angry to disgusted in a mere moment.

“STOP. Just- Stop. I’ll do it.”

The peace he’d felt while cooking had evaporated in a few short moments and the scythe glared at her as she painstakingly picked out every piece of diced tomato.

“Guess I just can’t do anything right,” he said with a fake chuckle, trying to make light of the situation; he was always trying to fix it, trying to make things right but she was having none of it.

“ _That’s_ one thing you’re right about.” 

“I fucking made you dinner- I clean everything- Who rubs your ankles when they’re swollen? Who doesn’t complain when you get up six times an hour to go pee-” His anger rose to match hers, boiling over as he snapped. She shot back a retort just as angry, just as vicious as they began to tear each other apart.

“Who left the toilet seat up when I told you not to? Who- Who has to stay home, bedridden with an idiot husband who can barely count to ten-“

“I CAN COUNT TO TEN I’M JUST DYSLEXIC YOU-“

“WHO GOT ME KNOCKED UP WITH A BABY I DIDN’T WANT-“

He trembled, breath heaving in and out of his lungs as his fingernails dug trenches into his palms, staring at her like she was some foreign creature who’d possessed his wife’s body.

“I’m- I’m going out,” he whispered, not bothering to take his jacket as he fled into the neck of a bottle in a dark bar somewhere.

She clutched herself, arms wrapping around her chest as the smell of smoke signalled that dinner was indeed burning.

_I fucking hate tomatoes._ she thought as the tears claimed her.


End file.
